The sky above Bellmont School turned gray as a thin fog descended from the hills beyond. The afternoon air carried the damp scent of pine leaves, blending with a breeze that made Rossie's jacket feel far too thin.
She stood in front of Bellmont's old theater building, a brick structure with cracks creeping along its sides. A wooden plaque reading "Eleanor Bellmont Auditorium" hung weathered but firm above the large double doors.
In her hand, she held a thin invitation, stamped with the school's official emblem:
"Open Registration for the Bellmont Drama Festival 2025. This Year's Theme: The Unseen Trail."
Rossie raised an eyebrow. The theme felt… unsettling. But what made her skin crawl wasn't just the wording—it was the rehearsal location listed: the old stage beneath the auditorium. A place supposedly unused for over a decade.
She swallowed hard, torn between curiosity and fear.
—
One Stage, Two Intentions
As Rossie opened the heavy auditorium doors, the scent of aged wood and dust rushed to greet her. Inside, a few students had already gathered—including Liam.
He stood leaning against a stage light column, wearing a black hoodie and gray joggers. He turned as Rossie entered, nodding subtly.
"Didn't think you'd show," Rossie said quietly, walking up to him.
Liam didn't respond right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the empty stage, cloaked in a strange heaviness.
"I'm here because… this might be connected to my mom," he said quietly.
Rossie froze. "My mom was in the theater club too. But strangely… there's no record of her in the school files."
They locked eyes. A quiet understanding passed between them—an invisible thread tying their stories together.
—
The Secret Script Emerges
Audrey Whitmore, the poised yet intimidating head of the theater club, appeared carrying a worn cardboard box. She dropped it onto the stage floor with a loud thud.
"Welcome to our biggest project of the year," she announced. "Today, we'll use a script from Bellmont's old archives—one that's never been performed."
She pulled out a bundle of yellowed pages stained with ink. The cover read:
"Traces on the Old Stage – Forbidden to Perform Without Special Authorization."
Whispers spread among the students, including Nichole and Sienna, who were seated together. Nichole's face was unusually tense. Rossie noticed—there was fear in her eyes.
—
Rehearsals Begin… But Something's Off
The first scene began. Rossie had been cast as the lead character "Claire," a girl who transfers to an old school and discovers a mysterious stage haunted by the past.
Liam played "Theo," a long-time student harboring a dark secret.
As they began reading their lines, something strange happened. The overhead lights flickered, and the words Rossie read seemed to shift:
"Claire, you won't be able to leave. This stage belongs to us."
Rossie turned to Liam. "Did you… read that too?"
He nodded. "But that line isn't in Audrey's copy."
Before they could say more, Audrey was suddenly behind them. "Is there a problem?"
Rossie masked her alarm. "No, just… a little chill, that's all."
Audrey smirked. "You haven't seen anything yet."
—
Sienna and Nichole's Secret Talk
In the costume room backstage, Sienna whispered sharply to Nichole.
"Did you see how close Rossie and Liam are getting? I don't like it."
Nichole bit her lip. She wasn't entirely on board, but discomfort clouded her thoughts.
"And about that script…" Nichole murmured. "I have a bad feeling. Like… the script knows us."
Sienna narrowed her eyes. "All the more reason to keep watching."
—
A Shocking Discovery
After rehearsal ended, Rossie sneaked back into the theater. She needed to confirm whether the words she read had really changed.
But what she found was even more disturbing.
Behind the stage curtain, hidden under layers of dust, she discovered an old photograph.
It showed a group of students posing on the very same stage. And there—clearly—was her mother, young and smiling.
But in the bottom corner of the photo, written in faded red ink, were the words:
"Traces on the Old Stage – Last Performed, 2002. All cast members disappeared."
Rossie almost dropped the picture. Her hands trembled.